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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966499">Teardrop</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplebass/pseuds/purplebass'>purplebass</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:35:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplebass/pseuds/purplebass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick fic based on what happens after the events in Chain of Iron. <br/>Don't read it if you haven't read the book, because it contains SPOILERS.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesse Blackthorn/Lucie Herondale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Blackdale</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Teardrop</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jesse could feel the cold, and for a moment, he had dreaded that he had ceased to exist in this world. That he was in the afterlife, whatever that was, if it existed, even, and that the creeping sensation jolting up his arms and echoing in his chest meant that it was over. He hadn’t made it.</p><p>He still didn’t know how was it possible. It wasn’t the first time his spirit had woken up in places he couldn’t remember travelling, but he knew this was different the moment he touched the surface where his body had lain, ready to be laid to rest for good.</p><p>He had felt an unfamiliar throbbing in his chest. He had gasped, startled. It was his heart making that noise in his ears, he had realized astonishingly. The pace had quickened when he had seen her. He had whispered her name as she sunk to the floor, the color draining from her delicate face.</p><p>And then someone had intruded, pressing him to get to his carriage at once, to leave all behind. He hadn’t asked questions. He had simply taken her in his arms, as if she were a princess, and had rushed out of the Institute, the other man in tow.</p><p>He had explained the situation to him. He had wanted to shout, to scream. To tell Lucie that she had been stubborn, impulsive. That she had to wait for the warlock to help her pull such magic. But he didn’t do any of this, he couldn’t do any of this.</p><p>Her head lain on his shoulder; her cheek pressed on the side of his arm. She hadn’t moved much since they departed from London, but Malcom Fade told him that she was safe, or he would have felt it.</p><p>Jesse didn’t trust him. When the man had gotten off the carriage to get something, he had checked her heartbeat by pressing his fingers on the side of her throat. He had learnt how to do it because there was a book in the library at Chiswick. His grandfather’s books had helped him before, and he was grateful they could help him now, all things considered.</p><p>His hands were icy. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, holding his breath. In another occasion, he would have marveled. He would have carefully paid attention to these details any other human being would have taken for granted. These little ordinary things which he had been missing for seven years. But he was too worried for her now, to think about his <em>life</em>.</p><p>
  <em>Thump. Thump. Thump.</em>
</p><p>He managed a smile, and sighed. “Thank you,” he whispered to the empty carriage. He felt something brushing his hand, which lain by the side of his leg. It was her slender fingers. She seemed to be looking for something, or she was just having a nightmare.</p><p>Was she looking for him?</p><p>He took her hand in his, and interlaced their fingers together, the way he had always longed to do in the past few weeks. She had tightened the hold, and he welcomed the sensation, the feeling of skin against skin sending sparks in his chest.</p><p>
  <em>Was this what happened to your body when you loved someone? </em>
</p><p>He felt something pricking at his eyes. His vision blurred, and he realized he was crying. A foreign sensation, hitting him like a wave. He didn’t know when he had started to sob. But he squeezed her hand, begging her to hold on. Hold on for him.</p><p>He trusted that she would listen.</p>
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